I try to tell him that it feels wonderful and thank him when I finally meet his gaze, but I’m silenced by the intensity within. His eyes swirl with the danger of a man close to getting what he wants. An animalistic heat passes between us and I can only nod for fear of what my voice would sound like if I dared utter a word to him.
Thankfully, he tears his gaze from me and picks up a ceramic plate from the counter.
“You need to eat.” Carter’s command sounds more like a reminder to himself. And again, I merely nod.
I’ve had delicious food before. I’ve gorged myself on delicacies without thinking twice. It’s one of the only benefits of my upbringing. But the food Carter brought me makes my mouth water and my grip tighten on the tub to keep me from ripping the plate from his hands.
He must see my eagerness; he always smiles that devilish grin when he knows I’m eager. Bastard.
“Open,” he commands me and like a good girl, my lips part and I nearly moan when he slips me the small chunk of filet dipped in au jus with a dab of herbed butter smeared across the top. The meat melts in my mouth, the tastes singing on my lips. My eyes are still closed as I relish the food, thinking it’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten when Carter brushes another piece against my lips.
Instantly I open my lips for him, and his finger brushes against my tongue as he gives me a second piece and then another. My teeth scrape against his fingers and my eyes widen with worry that he thinks I did it on purpose, but he only feeds me more.
The fear and worry slip away, just as the time does with each slice of tender meat.
Blistered tomatoes and peppers along with roasted potatoes find themselves in the mix as Carter feeds me until my stomach is full and I can’t take another bite. It’s been so long since I haven’t felt hunger pains. It feels like forever since I’ve sunk into a deep tub, covered in hot water. I rest my head against the side of the tub and pretend like everything is alright. It’s only a small moment until the clinking of the ceramic plate on the tile floor disturbs me and brings me back to the present.
My body stiffens slightly, sloshing the water toward the edge of the tub away from Carter as he dips a washcloth into the tub.
His fingers brush against my skin and sinfully, I welcome the touch. It’s been so long, and I’ve been so lonely. I want more. I need more. I find myself wishing for him to take me like I know he wants to.
Has he really broken me so easily? Or is this something I should want the way I do? The questions bring a haze to my mind and a thrumming in my blood. The washcloth travels over my body, starting at my feet and working its way upward. My calves, my thighs and so close to between them.
I know he can hear my heavy breathing; he can see how I grip the edge of the tub. But he doesn’t touch me there. Instead, he tells me to wet my hair and takes his time massaging my scalp and lathering my hair. The scent of the chamomile shampoo overwhelms me, and I hum ever so slightly until I hear it and stop myself.
Everything feels so good.
“Back under, songbird,” he tells me in that velvety voice. The voice I don’t want to disobey, and so I don’t. I do as he says. With every command he gives me, I do exactly what he says.
He massages the washcloth over my shoulders and I whimper as he kneads the pain away. I hadn’t realized how much my body ached until he showed me so. A low groan of approval forces me to open my eyes and stare into his. But he’s not looking at my gaze. His eyes are focused on my hardened nipples, peeking up from the water.
The washcloth makes a splash as it hits the water and slowly sinks to the depths of the tub. Carter lets his fingers trail down my chest, plucking one of my nipples and then the other. It happens slowly, his fingers determined but also giving me a warning. His rough thumb circles them first before tugging on them and causing my head to fall back and my thighs to clench. Each tweak sends a sharp spike of need between my legs, and I nearly spread them for him. My clit pulses with need. I feel it so strongly I don’t think it would take much at all for me to cum for him. And I can’t find it in me at all to find any shame at that fact.